


To Hell With It

by CuriosityRedux



Series: Dragon Drabbles AU's [5]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Angel & Demon AU, F/M, Hiccstrid - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 21:38:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16751935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityRedux/pseuds/CuriosityRedux
Summary: She's an angel. He's fallen. They can't be together... right?





	To Hell With It

**To Hell With It**

**-**

“Hiccup.”

He sighed, dropping his head between his knees before pushing away his worktable and twisting to look over the back of his couch. 

“Astrid! You’re looking exquisite this evening. Is it evening? Or morning? I can never tell. Peek your head out and tell me whether the sun’s rising or setting on the giant lake of fire.”

Despite the dark that blanketed his cavern, none of the eerie red lighting or black shadows touched her pale features. She had a glow of her own that radiated just enough to make her look completely out of place. Her pretty mouth was curved in a frown. But that wasn’t anything unusual. 

“You were seen in the mortal world,” she informed him crisply, folding her arms over her chest. “Again.” This generation’s style worked well for her– the white jeans accentuated her long legs, while her flowy top showed off lean arms. Was that backless? He made a note to pay closer attention to the shift of her wings until he had an answer. Either way, it suited her a lot better than the bell-bottoms he’d seen her in last.

Hiccup shook his head, pursing his lips as if in thought. “Couldn’t’ve been me. I’ve been holed up in hell like a good boy since the whole Elvis incident.”

She lifted a blonde brow at him. 

He pointed. “Hey. He shouldn’t have claimed to be a hunka hunka burning anything if he wasn’t prepared for the consequences.”

After a second of staring, her eyes slid closed and she covered her face with her hands. Her sigh was heavy and frustrated. Thick-soled boots crunched over gravel as she paced the length of his pitiful excuse for a home. The edges of her wings curled around her upper arms, blindingly white feathers ruffled.

“Just stand up so we can get this over with.” Astrid stopped, gesturing for him to move from his beaten, holey couch. (Not to be mistaken with the  _holy_  couch he had a millennium or so back. Now that was a fine piece of furniture.)

“Come on, Astrid, you should at least buy me dinner first,” he protested, even as he stood and tugged off the band t-shirt he’d worn so long the band’s name was faded off. “No wine, no small talk. I’m beginning to think your heart’s not in this.”

“I’m not in the mood for jokes, Hiccup.” She spoke his name like she was cracking a whip. Her tone was just as sharp and hostile. “I’m not going to stick around and entertain you by exchanging witty banter.”

The grin slowly slithered off his face. Untangling his hands from his t-shirt, he shucked the garment onto his work table. “Your temper’s getting shorter. Don’t your supervisors have something to say about that?" 

He paused in front of her, taking a steadying breath. For a moment, she just stared at him with a tight jaw and evaluating blue eyes. They looked like giant pools of water that he wanted to imbibe or drown in. Something flashed in them for just a second– a deep, soul-wrenching sorrow– but then a moment later she was recovered. She wet her lips, all business again. 

"My temper’s only short around you,” she murmured. Then she straightened her shoulders and unfolded her arms. 

He didn’t tear his gaze from her face as she tapped her fingertips to his forehead, then to his navel. Then from his right shoulder to his left. Her hand lifted, trembling just slightly, and then she hesitated for just a beat before pressing her palm into his chest. 

Oh hell. She was just as warm as he remembered.

Immediately the fire exploded beneath her touch. He swore, lungs ablaze as he stumbled to his hands and knees. Acid swam through his veins, turning his blood into shards of glass that ripped through his body with every pulse. His heart thudded, contracting so hard he clawed at his ribcage trying to tear it out. The sight of her boots faded in and out as his vision blurred. His ears echoed with the sound of his desperate wheezing. 

And then with one last stabbing throb, his punishment was set. Hiccup leaned forward on his forearms to catch his breath, and he blinked furiously as her boots turned and stepped away. When he glanced up, Astrid had faced away from him, and her wings were wrapped tightly around her. He could see the column of his spine– sure enough, her blouse was backless. A white ribbon was tied in a bow just beneath the jut of her wings. 

“What is it this time?” he panted, pushing back up to his feet. “A century of hunger? Seventy years of the tortured’s screams? Obviously I got to keep my sight this go around.”

His angel shook her head, making golden waves dance down her back, but she didn’t turn back to look at him. “Paralysis. It’ll set in after awhile.”

Hiccup scoffed. Unbelievable. His couch made a splintering sound when he kicked it and snarled. 

“I just want to be  _free_!” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Why is that such a  _crime_?”

Astrid turned. She was composed now, her wings relaxing. This was what she was good at– throwing the book at him. This was the song they’d spent a thousand years dancing to. “It’s selfishness,” she replied flatly. “You were created for a higher purpose.”

“Why do I need to have a purpose?” he raged, arms flailing madly at his sides. “Why can’t you guys just leave me alone? Let me experience things like the mortals do?”

“You’re not mortal, Hiccup!” Her fingers flexed as she bit out the words. “I’m sorry! You’re not.”

Shaking his head, he ripped his gaze from her lovely face and leaned over the back of his couch. His forehead pressed into the worn corduroy, and he closed his eyes in an attempt to control the fury that bubbled and festered inside him. The faster he gave into his baser emotions, the quicker his punishments set in. 

His exhale was weak and trembling. “I just wanna be free…”

For a long time she was quiet. She’d started pacing again. Then she leaned against one of the black cave walls. “Don’t they hurt?”

Licking his dry lips, Hiccup nodded. The skeletal remnants of his wings twitched as if they knew she was staring. “All the time.”

Her voice was gentle. “It’s not too late. You haven’t gotten rid of the bones. You could earn your feathers back.”

He swallowed hard and pushed away so he could face her again. “Tell me you don’t get tired of always following their rules. Tell me it doesn’t drive you absolutely  _insane_.”

“Sometimes,” she answered with a one-shouldered shrug. Her hands hung limply by her sides. “I hate when they assign me to you. I don’t want to have to see you.”

That cut deep. But he chewed at his lower lip and nodded. “Yeah. So. Can’t you imagine telling them all to shove it? Walking out and doing what you want to do?”

“I am doing what I want to do,” she argued quietly. 

“That’s a lie.” His laugh was harsh and sarcastic. “You can’t say there’s not stuff you think about after you’ve fulfilled whatever divine purpose they’ve assigned you.Things you wish for. Things you  _crave_.”

Hiccup didn’t realize that he’d stepped too close to her until he could feel her warmth just inches from his bare chest. Their eyes locked, and he saw that flash again. She was one of the angels’ best enforcer’s, hard as stone and utterly brainwashed. But when they got this close, her defenses shattered. Just like old times.

“C'mon, Astrid.” He wanted to trace her mouth with his thumb. “Can’t you let yourself  _want_  something for once?”

She exhaled sharply, cutting her eyes away with a tight smile. “Anyone can want. It’s discipline and restraint that separates  _us_  from–”

“Me?” He finished for her. She clenched her jaw shut. 

His hand dared up to her face, fingertips tracing her cheekbone. “Maybe I only go up to the mortal world so you’ll have to come here,” he whispered. He slid his fingers through strands of gold that felt like silk against his dry, calloused skin. “You won’t break the rules to see me, so I break them to see you.”

She lifted her eyes to the ceiling, blinking back more than just the urge to melt into his touch like she used to. “That’s cruel, Hiccup.”

“Break one for me.” He lowered his forehead to hers, drinking in her comforting warmth. “Just one little rebellion, and I’ll leave you alone forever.”

The sound of her teeth grinding was almost audible. She smelled like honey and freshly baked bread, like a home. Inhaling deeply, she raised her hands to dig her fingers into his upper arms. She could push him away or pull him in closer. Instead of either, she held him in place.

“Promise me,” she breathed. “Promise me I won’t have to hurt you again.”

“I promise,” he replied, unsure if he was capable of keeping the vow he was making. 

Then she angled her face upwards and molded her mouth to his. Her kiss was soft and warm and good and a faint reminder of everything they used to have. He used to spend thousands of kisses on every inch of her skin. He used to run his fingers through her hair and through her feathers whenever he desired. He couldn’t quantify the time he spent with her curled next to him in bed, because the place they inhabited  _knew_  no time.

Astrid hissed, jolting sharply. Slowly, not all at once, she peeled her hands away from his arms and stepped back. Her tongue swiped his taste from her lips, and she pressed the back of her palm against her mouth. 

“I have to go,” she whispered shakily, and she did. 

But after she had gone, he realized she’d left white feathers on a black cave floor. 


End file.
